All This To Say
by Emflem01
Summary: Picks up where The Originals left off in 2x16. Klaus decides to pay his therapist a visit. (Multi-chapter fic)
1. Chapter 1

_Focus, Cami… One more paragraph…_

Camille rubbed her tired eyes and sighed, placing her laptop on the coffee table. Her concentration had reached its limit and she could no longer focus on the dissertation at hand. She flopped back onto the couch, reaching for a blanket and draping it over herself, intending to shut off her mind for five minutes before continuing her work.

_Surely one little catnap can't hurt?_

Camille awoke to the sound of tapping on the window pane. A quick look at the clock told her she had been asleep for two hours. She mentally chastised herself for sleeping so long, given that her dissertation was due in the following morning. The same tapping sound that woke her moments before, returned. There was someone or something at her window; that much was clear, and this realisation gave Camille pause for concern. In a town like this, Camille knew she was vulnerable. She imagined that leaving Klaus' hideout and living back in her own house, in her own space, would be an easy, comfortable familiarity; like putting on your favourite pair of shoes. In actual fact, it had turned out to be the opposite. Without Elijah's calming presence, she felt unsettled and defenceless. Without his company, she was bored and restless. She had grown used to the vampire, forming a bond with him in only a matter of weeks. She had been disappointed that she hadn't heard from him since their return. Then again, she hadn't heard from Klaus either. Now that she appeared to be out of harm's way, he had left her alone, only calling on her the day of the wedding to babysit Hope. It spoke volumes that he trusted her with his daughter but she couldn't help wondering: _Do I matter to these people or am I just good for the odd therapy session? _

The tapping continued as Camille took her final steps towards the window and cautiously opened the blinds. The Original Hybrid who had just invaded her thoughts stood before her, drenched in rain from the steady downpour that had been ongoing most of the night. Camille's breath caught in her throat at the sheer shock of his untimely visit. She stood stock-still, separated only by glass with Klaus' eyes boring into her. Camille forced her eyes away from him and her attention turned to the lock on the window. Once the window was opened she signalled for Klaus to step inside. He nodded in acknowledgement of her invitation and entered the apartment he had become accustomed to. They had shared a number of intense moments in this quaint living room. No matter how many times Klaus entered, that familiar smell remained, he couldn't pinpoint it but it was similar to vanilla. It was Camille's scent. She was everywhere in the apartment and it was both a comfort to him to be in this space and undeniably gut-wrenching.

"I've had a..._dreadful _day. If my moods controlled the weather, it'd be on par with that monsoon out there." Klaus eyes darted over the room, unwilling, it seemed, to focus on the concerned human before him.

Camille's brows knit together in a frown. "You're soaking wet, Klaus. Do you want a towel? Here, let me get you..." Camille turned to walk away and Klaus grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"No…I'm quite fine. I don't mean to put you out."

Camille looked down at Klaus' lingering hand on her arm before raising her eyes to look at him. "Klaus, why are you here?"

The simple directness of her question threw him. He answered back with simple directness of his own.

"Because I want to be."

Camille stood slack-mouthed, with her eyes raised, her confusion evident. Klaus had barely spoken to her in months. Yet, here he was; on a random Thursday night, completely soaked by the rain, at one in the morning. She had no need to speak her next question aloud, her face spoke volumes.

"You're probably wondering why. Why do I want to be here? Why is it you I run to every time my demons come knocking at my door? Why is it your face I see when I react in my usual abhorrent manner? Why do I find it so hard to trust, yet I trust you? I don't have the answers to these question, I'm afraid, so you're just going to have to do without." Klaus shrugged. His slumped shoulders and bowed head betrayed his typically confident demeanour.

"Okay…well, I'm not sure what to do with that." Camille was baffled. Klaus had caught her completely off-guard. She gathered herself and regained her composure, adopting her usual shrink-like persona.

"With regards to your _dreadful _day, do you maybe want to talk about it?" Camille probed.

Klaus spent the next two hours, over a bottle of rum, explaining the developments with Freya, his arguments with Hayley and Jackson. His inability to trust anyone but himself with the safety of his daughter; His somewhat detachment from Elijah, the body situation with Rebekah and the loss of his brother, Kol. Camille listened intently throughout, offering no opinions, simply letting Klaus vent and air out all his problems and concerns. She realised it had been such a long time since they had sat down together; she had missed this. She missed helping this wounded, tortured soul. Her influence over him was apparent in his story telling as it had become clear that he had not made any rash decisions or gone on any killing sprees in spite of his anger. For that alone, she was proud of him. As time wore on, Camille struggled to stifle a yawn. Klaus stopped mid-sentence, noticing that she was exhausted.

"I can see you're tired, love. I'll leave you to get some rest. My apologies for keeping you up so late."

"No apologies necessary but yes, I _am _beat." Klaus stood up to leave and offered a supportive hand to Camille who accepted, clasping his hand in her own as she rose to face him. "Listen, you can come and speak to me any time. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Thank you for inviting me in and hearing me out. You're a true friend, Cami. I don't know many people I've had the pleasure of saying that about in my long life…" Klaus stared at Camille for a moment, lost in thought. "_That _is probably the answer to my many unanswered questions I shared with you earlier tonight." Camille's brow furrowed in tired confusion.

"What questions?" She asked, struggling to hold back another yawn, as her exhaustion crept over her.

"Why I always seek you out." Klaus replied, a hint of a smile, behind his stony expression.

"Ah, I see. Well, I am your therapist. On call 24-7."

Klaus snickered. "Precisely the reason why your survival is of upmost importance to me." Camille returned Klaus' smile, blushing. In spite of everything, she cared about this man before her and it touched her to know that he saw her as more than a therapist; as a 'true friend.' At some point down the line, they had made that leap. Klaus nodded and turned to leave through the window he came in.

"Hey, Klaus?" Camille called after him. He turned back to face her. "Could you tell Elijah I was asking for him?" Camille swore she could see a slight grimace on the Original Hybrids face for a split second, but before she could be sure, he had vanished. Camille locked the window behind him, shivering as the last gust of wind entered through the open space, sending chills up her spine. She shuffled towards the comfort of her beaten old couch and lay back in the same place she had fallen asleep earlier. Her exhaustion had taken hold and it wasn't long before thoughts of Klaus carried into her dreams as she drifted off into an easy, peaceful slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was like an experienced sniper, aiming its beam of light through the living room window at a sleeping Camille, lying sprawled out on the couch. A mass of tangled hair stuck to her cheek from the position she had been lying in. The blanket she had wrapped herself in had been kicked off through the night and now lay on the floor in a crumpled heap. As the light fell on her face, she let out a groan as she began to ebb and flow out of her hazy sleep. As her mind began to drift back to reality, her eyes shot open at the dawning realisation that she had failed to complete her dissertation. She darted out of her makeshift bed and checked the time. Her face fell. She had an hour and a half to get ready, finish her dissertation and hand it in. An impossible task for a mere human. She gathered her notes before her in a pile and booted up her sluggish old laptop. It took a ridiculous length of time for the ancient pile of crap to load up and in that time she contemplated the perks of being a vampire. Vampire speed would do nicely right now. She could zoom about the apartment, get ready, toast a bagel and maybe a minute or two would have gone by. But then, her uncompromising laptop would still be half-asleep by the time she sat down to type. She sighed, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes. Those eyes drifted to the clock, where the increasing sound of the _tick, tick, tick, tick _felt like a pin prodding away at her brain. The swell of anxiety rose with the volume of the clock, signalling alarm. She had never missed a deadline.

When her laptop finally awoke from the dead, she was relieved to note that she had completed a larger chunk of her thesis than she remembered from the night before, granted it still wasn't nearly enough. Camille bit her lip and looked towards her cell phone lying on the side table. An idea had formed but it would involve a favour from Klaus, who would no doubt use it as leverage against her at some point. Was it really worth it? Could she really go there and would her moral compass even allow it? With a sigh, she picked up the phone and typed out a text message, finding it easier than having to vocalise her need for his assistance at that moment.

"Klaus, I have a favour to ask. You know I wouldn't normally do this but these are exceptional circumstances. My dissertation is due in this morning and with your visit last night and my catnap turned coma, I haven't been able to finish it. I could really use your powers of _persuasion_ to grant me a couple more hours to get it finished. If you wouldn't mind…?"

A few moments later, her phone vibrated with an incoming text message from the helpful hybrid.

"Consider it done."

Camille let out the breath she had been holding and felt the power of relief wash over her. Now was not the time to worry about the repercussions of asking Klaus for help when she had a dissertation to complete.

* * *

It had been one of the slowest shifts of her life. Rousseau's was bordering on empty most of the night. Normally, Camille would take a break to study but since powering through her dissertation earlier that afternoon, she hadn't the will to look over any of her psychology notes. She looked at the row of pint tumblers she had cleaned, predicting that a new record had been broken for most glasses cleaned in a night. She picked up another glass, intending to clean it and add it to the rest when it slipped out of her hands, smashing to pieces on the floor. She cursed herself inwardly and bent down to pick up the broken pieces of glass.

"You need some help there?"

Camille shot up, caught off guard by the voice at the other side of the bar. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment before she adjusted to the realisation that it was no longer Finn standing before her, but Vincent. He looked calm and assured in comparison to the flustered Camille, her flushed face betraying the embarrassment she felt.

"Hi…sorry, you gave me a fright." She looked down at the broken pieces of glass on the floor. "Butter fingers…I'd better clean that up."

Vincent rubbed a hand over his dark stubble. He could sense the awkward, nervous vibes Camille was throwing at him and it unsettled him. He'd never get over the fact that his body was taken over by a psychopath and he would have to live with the uncomfortable way his presence made people feel. He vowed to change people's perceptions of him and what he was capable of, starting with the beautiful woman before him. He was drawn towards her from the moment she allowed him to open up to her and made him feel like he wasn't crazy.

"Has it been a long night?" Vincent enquired

"Yeah, it's dragged in. It's been really quiet. How's things with you anyway?"

Vincent sighed and shook his head. "Long story. I could really use a drink though…"

Camille shone her radiant smile and nodded, proving him with a glass of whiskey.

"Can I buy you a drink, Cami?"

"I don't finish for another hour and a half. You can owe me one? Another time maybe?"

"I don't mind waiting. It's not like I have any other place to be. I won't get in the way though or put you off your work, seeing as you have so many customers to serve right now." Vincent looked around at the virtually empty bar and smirked at Camille. She was taken aback, not only by his playful, roguish personality, but by his kind eyes. This figure who had recently been at the centre of her worst nightmares was now making her laugh. Granted, he wasn't the same man, but it was still a bizarre situation.

For the next hour or so, Camille and Vincent engaged in conversation while Cami carried out her duties behind the bar and started cleaning tables and chairs in preparation for opening up the following day. With a large sigh of relief, Cami grabbed a bottle a Gin and poured herself a Gin and Tonic.

"So, now that I've cracked open the Gin, do you fancy telling me about your long story? Does it have a happy ending? I'm a sucker for happy endings."

"Well yeah, it was a crazy day but it has a semi-happy ending."

"Excellent. Spill!" Camille grinned as the first sips of G&amp;T made its way down her parched throat, warming up her insides, leaving her feeling refreshed and relaxed for the first time all day.

"To cut a long story short, we saved some children from a cloaking spell used by Eva. She was channelling them for power. The thought that she had killed those children broke my heart but when I found out they were alive I had to do what I could to free them."

Camille's face fell and her eyes widened. She didn't realise his day had been _that _crazy. "Oh my…and Eva?"

"She's gone. For now at least." Vincent tore his eyes from Cami's and focussed on his drink.

"I'm sorry. Are you doing okay?" Cami's concern was touching, considering they hardly knew each other.

Vincent's phone rang. He ignored the call, in favour of gazing into Camille's eyes. They really were hypnotic. She was first to break eye contact, unwilling to give the impression that this relationship might become anything more than platonic.

That familiar voice had returned in her head. Klaus' voice.

"_Camille. The Brave Bartender."_

He was under her skin and no matter what she tried to do, she could not change that. So, for now at least, everyone was firmly in friend-zone. She had ended her friends with benefits situation with Marcel when she walked into the compound for the first time in months and _felt _Klaus' presence. Despite the fact she was not lying when she told Marcel they had to stop fooling around so she could focus on her studies and human people, she neglected to mention that her undeniable connection to his sire was a major factor in her decision making process.

Vincent swallowed his disappointment. "Sorry, what was the question?"

"I asked if you were okay." Camille said. "It must be hard, given that she was your wife?"

Vincent's grimaced, this was not something he particularly wanted to discuss. Normally Camille had a way of reading people like a book, getting them to open up and lay their thoughts and feelings out on the table. However, she was trying not to make too much eye contact and in doing so, only succeeded in making the situation awkward, rendering Vincent a closed book.

"I'm okay, thank you for asking. Your company does help so thanks for letting me hang out for a bit."

"Listen, my shift dragged by. The last hour and half with some decent conversation really flew in so no, thank _you_." Her trademark smile had returned. "And listen, like I've said before, I'm here if you ever want to chat. You can never have too many friends in this place."

"Indeed." Vincent felt a lightness in his chest, a pull towards his drinking companion. "I'll drink to that."

Klaus stood outside Rousseau's. The lightness in the chest of the witch, sitting side by side with Camille, was the mirror opposite of how Klaus was feeling. He felt heavy, the weight of jealousy; the weight of _hurt_. With everything going on with Hope, the imminent fight with Dahlia, his family disputes over the honesty of Freya, he had found time to do as his therapist, his bartender, his _friend_ had asked. That unfamiliar feeling of pride in carrying out a good deed had warmed him on his way to Rousseau's to see Camille. Now that warmth was well and truly gone; all he felt was cold. The bitter chill of disappointment. He left the bar and Camille in the company of a witch he didn't particularly care for, with the vow to focus on family matters at hand. Defeating the enemy and protecting Hope was his sole purpose. No more distractions.


	3. Chapter 3

"Bad time?"

Caught unawares, Klaus felt his heart palpitate, his face unnaturally breaking into a soft grin, despite his current perilous predicament, as the woman with the voice that could sooth him out of his tense, anxiety filled head space reverberated around the room.

"Camille…"

For a split second he felt pleased to see her. The fleeting moment of genuine gladness replaced with his familiar defensive, cynical disposition. Reminding himself that for whatever reason she had come, he had declared to himself that there were to be no more distractions. Camille was the biggest distraction of all. Her doe eyes, constantly seeking out his retribution like she had nothing better do with her time than help him. He appreciated that, appreciated _her_ more than he could ever vocalise, but...to put it quite simply, _she_ is a gift too precious to accept.

"Ah, yes. As I've recently proved disagreeable, I assume Elijah asked you here to play therapist to the savage beast."

Klaus: the _savage_ beast, the monster, the _bastard_. Always reminding her of who he really is. Lest she forget. Using her new found _friendship_ with his brother, of his own doing, to get to the root of why she would show up in his study, disturbing him in his act of smearing paint onto a canvas. Camille could go on her merry way, back to Elijah for all he cared.

"Fear not, I shall tell Elijah you came as asked, and you may leave assured your duty is fulfilled."

Klaus turned his back on Camille, resuming his painting. At this crucial moment in time, he needed to think. He valued his time alone, with the freedom to work out strategies in his mind with the only person he trusted right now: himself. He felt Camille's presence draw near as he adamantly clung to the dark place he had positioned himself in, grimacing as she dragged him back into her world.

"Talk to me and not because Elijah sent me."

He let himself give in, accept her help. On the surface he seemed like he was holding it together, competent and un-afraid. Deep down, he was quite the opposite and what he really _wanted_ was everything Camille offered him. Perhaps his problems would scare her away…that would probably be a good thing; for the best.

* * *

Klaus had spent a good twenty minutes offloading his problems to Camille, particularly to do with his distrust towards his sister, who had sprung out of nowhere into their lives like an unwanted Christmas present. If he had a receipt, he would gladly hand her back where she came from, but suspected Dahlia didn't want her either. Before long, Camille got to the root of the problem, assessing Klaus like a pro and seeing right through his cavalier attitude. The metaphorical root being none other than Michael. Always Michael.

"After the first good day we ever had together. We actually made a good team, and just when it looked as though we might for once be allies... I drove a stake through his heart."

"Because he said he loved Freya?" Camille replied, wiping the smirk from Klaus face in one fell sweep. She knew she had him sussed. Before Klaus could regain his composure, a moment of painful honesty flashed before her in the eyes of the self-named savage beast. He was truly hurt by the love he had not received that Freya had so easily attained from their father. Klaus, knowing his mask had slipped, took but a moment to snap back to his usual sarcastic self, pushing Camille away in the process.

"Or maybe it's just what I do... kill my enemies, sometimes my friends. This may come as a surprise to you, Camille, but I'm not a terribly good person."

As if Camille needed any reminding of who he _proclaimed_ to be. Klaus knew she saw him for what he truly was; a man damaged by his demons, scared, alone, lost, with an anger than consumes him…

She believes that all people desire to be good. Looking at her now, across the table in that corner café, Klaus recognises a feeling within himself. A desire to be good _with her_. What happens when she leaves is an entirely different matter and judging by the look on her face, she knows that too.

* * *

Camille couldn't believe it when she heard the news, unwilling to accept that Klaus played any part in the death of Aiden even when they assured her that he admitted it. She felt in her gut that something was wrong. There had to be some kind of mistake. There is always reason to Klaus' madness. If the unthinkable _had _happened and Klaus_ was _responsible for brutally murdering Aiden then she wanted to hear it from him. She needed him to look her in the eye and admit it; admit that he _is_ a monster who is capable of acts that are at the very depths of evil. An evil that she had until then, not believed existed. If it were true, then she had lost him and lost an important piece of herself that still believed in his humanity.

"Tell me you didn't do it. Tell me you didn't kill that sweet boy."

Klaus couldn't bear to look at her. He had a plan that he had thought out in his head in the moments after declaring himself responsible for killing Aiden. Knowing that Camille would hate him, thinking that he had killed an innocent bystander, he intended to seek her out and make things right, hoping that the damage done had not been irreparable and that she might forgive him one day. It is all he had to cling on too, in order to keep up his façade. In the mean-time, he had plenty on his plate, without having to listen to Camille's scrutiny of his actions.

Klaus shot back at her in defiance, "If I tell you who I am, and you refuse to believe me, then I can hardly be blamed for your disappointment."

With brutal honesty, the Original hybrid came to accept that Camille simply didn't understand or accept that this is who he is; that in his world, sometimes you have to be _ruthless_ to survive. With a family to protect and a long list of enemies, there would be collateral damage along the way. Camille lives in another world, one he is not fit for; a peaceful place that Klaus visits now and then but could never truly live in. Now she has come into his world with her own set of expectations, ideals and standards that the beast could never hope to live up to. That fact alone, hurts to the core and so he turns to walk away, intending to leave her behind until he is, yet again, helplessly dragged back in, stopped in his tracks with the force of her words.

"I wish I did believe you, and you know what? Maybe you were right, maybe about everything, even Freya. Maybe she's not what she seems. Maybe she is out to get you and twisting everyone against you, and maybe she is this terrible person, but you know what she didn't do, Klaus? She didn't just kill Aiden. She didn't just murder an innocent guy."

The sheer weight of her disappointment is too heavy to bear. Despite all rational thought, his impulses give way, resulting in the most open, honest, declaration of his life.

"And neither did I!"

Klaus was astonished by his own admission. There was something about the human standing before him, a connection that he couldn't shift. The very idea of her _hating_ him was insufferable. Once Camille had processed Klaus words and the initial shock had waned, her relief was written plain as day on her face. She pressed him for answers about his decision to lie and incur the blame for Aiden's death and Klaus felt a fountain of honesty pour out of him.

"If I have spilled Crescent blood, then Hayley will be forced to question her pack's loyalty to Hope, and she will not run… Only I can save her, and I need them to fear me!"

There it was, Camille thought. Klaus' _'method to the madness'. _Typically, borne out of fear.

"_Doesn't feel safe and doesn't know what to do about it."_

Her depiction of Klaus was as accurate as it had ever been. She took a step towards him and uttered the question she already knew the answer to.

"Am I supposed to fear you, too?

_Of course not_, Camille wanted him to say. Followed by, _I would never hurt you._

Instead, with no small amount of sadness and despair, Klaus highlighted the reality of his situation; _their _situation.

"It would be better for you if you did, for you to believe I am the monster they would paint me as."

If Camille was terrified of him, if she thought him evil, she would stay as far away from him as possible. However, the irony exists in Klaus' fear of that very thing. The bottom line is, _had_ he followed through with his lie about killing Aiden, it would have become a reality that he absolutely couldn't handle. In his selfish need for her presence in his life, he had destroyed her true opportunity to break free from him and make a life for herself in the mellow world in which she comes from.

In an extraordinary moment, Klaus, still overcome by his prominent urge to divulge himself to Camille, looked at her, encompassed by a feeling of of want and desire, and made his feelings quite clear.

"And then one day when all of this was past, I might find you and profess my innocence, and because you are you, you would believe me, and we would pass a perfect afternoon in a corner cafe together."

In the steps he had taken towards her they were inches apart. Klaus gently placed his hand on Camille's cheek, compelled to touch the beautiful human before him, who he was not worthy of, nor willing to corrupt. The precise moment she felt his hand on her skin, Camille's eyes drew closed. A solitary tear escaped, making its way down her face, shattering the _monster's_ heart into a thousand pieces. She drew herself into his hand, allowing this opportunity to bask in the luxury of rare physical contact with the Hundred Dollar Guy, who somehow left his mark on her from the very beginning and got under her skin.

"And I would wish for nothing more." Klaus uttered his confession with a delicate whisper. His fantasy for them unmasked with undertones of genuine regret for the reality of their situation. Camille finally opened her eyes to look at him. The sorrow and compassion painted in her reflection mirrored his own conflicting emotions and Klaus knew it was time to retreat and back off.

"A better man would protect you with that lie, but I am not that man... And so I leave you with the burden of a truth that no one will believe."

With that final declaration Klaus turned to leave, without looking back, leaving Camille motionless on the spot. Her whole being overcome by a myriad of emotions. She alone knew the truth, comforted by the knowledge that her assumptions about Klaus were right. He was a complicated creature with a tonne weight of baggage, but her suspicions were affirmed; she was not in deep with a monster, for he was _not _a monster. In dropping that shocking truth bomb he only succeeded in drawing Camille further into his world. She knew this, but she was prepared to do what she could in order to help him protect his daughter - whatever the costs, whatever the risk.


End file.
